Bob Carlyle had heard it said that petite women were particularly mobile in bed.
The inner-miserable virgin had laughed and feigned appreciation at times like these, while filing the observation away for use in his stories. Now he wasn’t in bed, and no naïve fantasy could have possibly posited this scenario. Still the dictum was proved true.
As exhilarated to be dominating him as he was to suffer her, inflamed with an insane passion befitting her name, inspired rather than offended by his ecstatic response to her abuse, Psycho sodomized Bobby with such sewing-machine speed and unquenchable energy that the others at last backed off to cheer her on.
“f**k, f**k, f**k that mutt! First in show, first to go, one more b***h is sold!”
Endlessly they chanted this obscure gang mantra, which s
